Alien 3: What Should Have Happened
by heroofcanton
Summary: What would have happened if Hicks and Newt had survived the crash on Fury 161? A reworking of Alien 3 without the deaths of Corporal Dwayne Hicks and Rebecca "Newt" Jorden for all those who felt it was a travesty to kill them off.
1. Rise and Shine

Alien 3 – what should have happened

-Rise and Shine-

The first thing that hit him was the smell. The metallic tang of bleach and disinfectants tingled in his nose. Hospital. He had to be in a hospital. That meant…

Corporal Dwayne Hicks bolted upright in his bed, expecting to see the pristine interior of a Colonial Marine infirmary. The sight that greeted him was less than pristine. He was lying in a cold, dingy room whose formerly white tiles had assumed a waxy yellow color, despite the cleansing power of the disinfectants. His bed was in a corner, cut off from the rest of the room by a translucent plastic tarp hanging from the ceiling. Ominous stains were splattered across. Some had gone wrong; this was not where he was supposed to be.

How did he get here?

Hicks shut his eyes and brought up the last thing he remembered before going out.

_"Hicks, don't let Bishop leave without us."_

_"We're not going anywhere."_

Ripley. His eyes snapped open as his goal switched from trying to figure out where he was to try and find out what had happened to her and Newt. The last he had seen, she was preparing to run into the alien nest to find the girl before she was impregnated by a face-hugger or the entire atmosphere processor turned into a cloud of vapor the size of…well, a big cloud.

Had they made it?

He leapt out of bed only to discover that not only was he completely naked but an unnervingly large wound on his side that he didn't remember getting had just ripped its stitches.

"Oh shit." He thought as he stumbled into the plastic curtain, yanking it from its track in a futile attempt to stop his headlong descent to the cold, tiled floor.

A bald man was lounging on a bed across from where Hicks lay with blood oozing from his reopened wound. The man glanced up from his comic book.

"Mate, you look like how I feel."

"Yeah, I get that a lot." Hicks replied through clenched teeth.

The man snickered and shouted; "Clemens! The Corporal is up and he's bust his stitches!" Then he returned to reading his comic book.


	2. Assholes and Elbows

-Assholes and Elbows-

Clemens was an ass. Hicks couldn't believe it, why was he always surrounded by asses? Lieutenant Gorman had been a stupid ass that was responsible for the deaths of half his squad. Hudson had been a smart-ass, but at least that helped break the tension. Burke was a conniving, narcissistic, greedy ass verging on the edge of psychopathic. Clemens was just a pompous ass…for now.

"Once again, I will go through it slowly so as not to confuse you."

Hicks couldn't tell where the disdain in Clemens' voice was coming from. It wasn't the first time that someone had spoken to him like he was a moron; Burke had seemed to get some sort of pleasure out of it on LV-426. Ah well. He decided to let it slide in order to focus on what the doctor was about to tell him as he re-stitched his wound.

"You, Lieutenant Ellen Ripley and the girl—"

"Newt." Interjected Hicks, "Her name is Newt."

"Well then, Newt's cryo chamber flooded when the EEV crashed. She would have drowned if we had not arrived so quickly. As it were, we weren't quite quick enough to prevent her from slipping into a coma. However we have her stable and a rescue team should be here within the week. You were essentially impaled by a piece of debris during the crash. Again, you were lucky that we arrived before you bled out. Although you seemed to be intent on finishing the job earlier." Clemens snipped the thread and examined his handiwork with a satisfied smile, "Lieutenant Ripley was the luckiest really. She survived with minimal physical damage. Scrapes and bruises mostly, but she's still asleep at the moment."

Hicks smiled to himself. Of course Ripley had managed to both rescue Newt and get back on the ship before the processor went nuclear. She was either that good or had the world's absolute best luck. He liked to think it was the former.

"There was also an android with you, correct?" Clemens asked

"Yeah, Bishop. What happened to him?"

"He was in pieces and unoperational so the men dropped him off in the junkyard."

The last time he had seen the android was when Bishop gave him a sedative. The fireballs were quite vivid. As was the sound of electricity and shearing metal.

"What is this place?"

"You are on Fury 161, a maximum security prison. Oh yes, considering that the rapists and murderers might react…unfavorably if they realize that a woman, a child and a Colonial Marine have all arrived, you are to be confined to the infirmary. If for some reason you leave the infirmary it will be only in the company of an escort."

Hicks nodded. "Sure. I'm not exactly looking to go sightseeing here anyhow."

"Oh, and one final thing. You will need to shave your hair. All of it. We have a bit of a lice problem here."

Had Hudson been there he might have come up with some sarcastic one-liner to lift the mood a bit. As it was, Hicks took another look around the prison infirmary, taking in more stained plastic tarps and greasy looking tiles and added that image to the 'lice problem'. The only thing he could come up with was simply;

"I hate this job."


	3. A Day in the Corps

-A Day in the Corps is like a Day on the Farm-

Hicks jerked awake, causing the chair he was slumped in to screech loudly as it dragged across the floor. He rubbed his face in an attempt to wake up, only to find it bathed in sweat. It was the first nightmare that he'd had in years. That fact alone disturbed him. The content of his dream…well, that terrified him. He had become intimately associated with terror recently. Luckily his years in the Colonial Marine Corps had taught him how to suppress his most basic of instincts so that he could still function effectively. He wet his almost painfully cracked lips and fell back on his training to dissect his nightmare and remove the feelings of terror that were roiling inside of him. At least that was the idea.

The dream had come to him before on multiple occasions. It never had a plot, at least not that he could tell, but was a series of images and sensations that always triggered some deep-rooted panic. Always.

What was there to be afraid of at this point? He had survived LV-426 when the rest of his unit had been obliterated. He had even survived an EEV crash and getting run through by a piece of the wreckage, only to land on this frigid prison world. If he could he'd go out and buy a lottery ticket, just to make the most of his lucky streak. So what was it that caused the nightmare to resurface?

Something was wrong. He didn't know what it was but it was apparent that his subconscious was trying to tell him something.

He glanced down at the occupied bed to his left. Newt looked peaceful in her coma. He had to admit, she was one tough kid. For a brief moment back on LV- 426 he had almost acted on Hudson's idea to put the girl in charge. He had no idea how she managed to survive on her own -- he had only barely managed to survive with a whole unit of Colonial Marines to support him – but in his books, that earned her one hell of a medal. Maybe once they got off this rock he could arrange for her to get one.

Maybe once they got off this rock he could return to Earth. Maybe then he could have a conversation with Ripley that didn't involve firearms or their own imminent demise. He paused, looking at the unconscious woman to his right. She was the one who should purchase the lottery ticket, having survived two encounters with that species and coming out of the crash with only a few scrapes and bruises. If anybody deserved any sort of vacation it would have to be Ripley. Maybe then they could actually get a chance to talk.

Smiling at the prospect, the Corporal stretched back in his chair only to be forced to view the particularly grimy tiles of the infirmary ceiling. There were 48 of them. He really needed to get out and do something, anything besides continuing to stare at the ominous stains on the plastic curtains or the filthy yellow tiles. The whole room made his skin crawl. He needed to go somewhere.

An angry gurgle emanated from his stomach, reminding Hicks that he hadn't eaten since LV-426, however long ago that was. Conscious of the hole in his side that was healing, he stood up gingerly, pausing a moment to steady himself. He went through and checked the infirmary, making sure he wasn't about to leave Ripley and Newt with any convicts. The room was totally empty. Satisfied, he made his way towards the door with the idea that he would station himself just outside of the infirmary to prevent convicts from getting in, enjoy a much needed change of scenery and hopefully wave someone down for food. It was a simple but effective plan.

Four feet from the door he heard something moving behind him. Hicks spun around, causing the hole in his side to twinge in protest. If anything, the events of LV-426 had made him a bit twitchy. He scanned for the source of the motion and found a groggy looking Ripley, glassy brown eyes staring at him from her bed.

"Hicks." She croaked, "What happened to your hair?"

He grinned, probably like a moron, but that didn't matter. His subconscious was wrong, obviously. What was there to be afraid of now?

Ignoring the protests from his stomach he marched back to the chair he had just vacated to talk with Ripley, telling her all that he knew of their current predicament. She listened in total silence, Hicks wasn't entirely sure that she was awake except for when he mentioned Newt her head whipped around to where the girl lay and froze in that position for the remainder of his debriefing. By the time he had finished, Ripley's eyes had become wide and alert.

"What caused the crash?" she asked, turning back to him.

"I don't know. I haven't left this room since I woke up."

"Yeah, because this is such a cozy place to spend your time." She had noticed the mysterious stains too.

Hicks smiled and shrugged. "I wasn't going to have you two alone with felons. I am after all, supposed to be keeping you alive."

Ripley opened her mouth to respond but Clemens walked in, and stopped dead in his tracks.

"You're awake." What a brilliant statement of the obvious. Hicks saw Ripley raise an eyebrow, apparently thinking the same thing. Clemens seemed unaware.

"I am not sure what the Corporal here has told you, or how much he has explained, but I think the first thing is to get you some clothes then you can see to shaving off your hair."

Clothes? Hicks looked over to Ripley. She was naked under the covers. He hadn't even noticed. How had he not even noticed? He felt the blood rush to his face. He stood up.

"I'll give you some privacy." He said, walking back to the door and taking up his position just outside of it. He concentrated on studying the new scenery; it was good to keep his mind occupied on simple things like that.


	4. They Mostly Come at Night

-They mostly come at night…mostly-

"This is rumor control. Here are the facts!" The authoritative voice barked from the bottom of what Hicks could only describe as an atrium. Clemens was leading him and a freshly bald Ripley to the cafeteria, having secured Newt in the infirmary. At the moment they were walking around a circular path at the top of the atrium, giving them an unimpeded view of the base where the round little man was speaking to a handful of prisoners who were gathered at the bottom. The man continued his notice.

"Once again, this is rumor control, here are the facts. At 0800 hours, prisoner Murphy, through carelessness on his part, was found dead in vent shaft 17. He _seems_ to have been …" The rest of the speech was cut off as the trio entered the cafeteria and the doors closed behind them.

"Hey, what happened to that guy, Murphy?" Ripley asked, approaching the doctor.

"Well, he died. He was doing maintenance work on one of the tunnels when it seems that the poor sod backed into a nine-foot fan. As you can imagine, he died instantaneously. All that I could find to identify him was his boot."

"Hell of a way to go." muttered Hicks

"Indeed." Clemens motioned for them to take their trays and move down the food assembly line. Chunky semi-solids bubbled in various shades of brown. The Corporal scanned down the line and smiled to himself when he saw the stacked cornbread roughly halfway down. He and Frost had had a bet going as to whether or not the food served in the Corps was any better than prison food. It seemed that he owed Frost money.

The smile evaporated.

He would have owed him money.

He filled his tray in silence, being sure to grab an extra piece of cornbread in memory of his missing friends and sat down across from Ripley. After dropping a tea bag into a cup of hot water, Clemens joined them, pulling out the chair next to Ripley.

Hicks dove into his food. No matter how unappetizing or horrifying a meal may be, he had learned early in Basic Training never to pass up an opportunity to eat because you never knew how long it would be until you had the luxury of having the time for a meal. Besides, if you sucked the food in fast enough you didn't even have to taste it. He learned that from being forced to eat vegetables as a kid.

"So do accidents like Murphy's happen often around here?"

Hicks paused mid-bite. Why was Ripley so interested in that guy's death? He gave her an inquiring look, hoping to be let in on what she was thinking. Instead, she responded with an '_I'll explain later' _look and waited for the doctor to finish sipping his tea before responding.

"No, I can't say they do. Sure, there are accidents, but nothing quite like that." he took another swig of his beverage. "Usually I treat cuts, burns, broken bones, those sorts of things. It's been a good long while since we've had a death, and I can't think of any that were quite that…messy. The men have been here for a long time, every one of them has had to clean out a tunnel at some point or another and there haven't been any accidents like this." He drained his tea.

"Well what do you think caused Murphy's accident?" Hicks asked. Clemens' answer had given the Corporal an idea as to where Ripley's questions were heading, and he did not like it.

"Anything really. It was, after all, an accident. This facility doubles as both a prison and lead production plant. It can be quite danger-"

"Mister Clemens!" Hicks jumped, and spun around to locate the noise. LV-426 had really made him paranoid and twitchy, unbecoming traits for a Colonial Marine. A man was standing just inside the cafeteria; he didn't look like any of the convicts that were gathered earlier.

"What is it Aaron?"

Aaron's gaze flitted between Ripley and Hicks as he replied, "Superintendent Andrews wants to speak with you."

"If you would excuse me for a minute." The doctor said, standing.

Hicks' eyes followed the man as he and Aaron left the room. The second the door closed behind Clemens he turned to Ripley.

"You think one of those things made it here."

Ripley nodded.

"I also think that may have been what caused the crash." she gave a tired smile and rubbed her scalp. "It wouldn't be the first time one of them stowed away on a ship."

Hicks leaned back in his chair, folding his arms. "Damn. We've got problems…again." He cracked a slight grin at the end. Like a survivor who miraculously cheated death only to be forced to re-confront its source, a hysterical sense of irony had planted itself in Hicks' mind. Thankfully his training kicked in before he cracked, directing the energy instead into calm logical thought.

"We'll need to look at the EEV. See if there is anything that might let us know one way or the other."

"I can see if Bishop will function, just enough to let us know what happened before the crash."

Hicks nodded. "Good idea. Clemens said that he was dropped in the junkyard. I'd guess the EEV might be there too." At some level of his conscious mind he registered that once again, he and Ripley were having another conversation regarding their potential demise.

"Hicks, if it turns out that one of those things is loose here, your promise still stands right?"

"What?"

"You're not going to let me wind up like those colonists on LV-426, you'll take care of it?"

He paused, she looked so hopeful.

"Yeah. I'll take care of us both. But I'm not gonna let it come to that. We've made it once, well you made it twice, and I'm gonna make damn sure we make it again."

There was no way in hell that he was going to let them get taken out by one of those things after having survived LV-426. No fucking way. Before it had just been his mission, but now…now he was personally going to drown every last one of those sons of bitches in pools of their own blood. Which was helpful since their blood was concentrated acid.

Ripley smiled and he felt his heart twinge. She was smiling at the guarantee of a quick death. That shouldn't be something anyone should have to think of, but here she was, glad for it.

"I'm glad that you're here." she said.

He raised an eyebrow. _Yeah, glad that I'm here to make sure you have a painless death. _

"No, not just for that." she understood the meaning of his look, "If it turns out that there's another…creature here, I'm glad that I don't have to face it alone."

"Not that I would want you to have to deal with one of those things again." she added quickly.

The meaning of her words was clear. Despite the fact that she had an entire unit of Marines with her during her last encounter, she was the only one who actually knew what they were dealing with. While she wasn't military, the survival of the team must have felt like it resided with her; she had survived an encounter with one of them before, so obviously she had to have some trick up her sleeve_._ There was no trick, but no one had known it. She was just the luckiest one of her previous crew.

Well this time he would relieve her of some of that pressure.

He opened his mouth to say so, but at that moment Clemens returned.

"I'll tell him that you are on your way." Aaron called before walking away.

"It seems that the Superintendent requires a meeting with me. I'm to escort you back to the infirmary before I see him." the doctor made a sweeping motion towards the exit, "So if you will follow me."

Ripley seized the opportunity and spoke up. "Actually, I wanted to look at the wreckage of the EEV and find the remains of the android Bishop."

Clemens gave her a curious look.

"Bishop saved my life once. He deserves better than to be thrown into a scrap heap."

"I sense there's more to this than what you are disclosing. However I can't allow you to wander around amongst the native population. They may have taken vows of celibacy, but that was before a woman showed up."

"I'll go with her."

Ripley and Clemens both looked at the Corporal. Ripley, pleased and Clemens mildly surprised.

"I'm a Marine. I think I can handle playing bodyguard against some cons." He shrugged.

"I suppose they would all be at Murphy's memorial service…" Clemens mused. "Alright, but stick to the specific instructions that I give you on how to get there. The last thing we need is some religious riot on our hands."

The doctor proceeded to give them directions on how to get to the scrap yard from their current location. Having finished, he spun around and left for his meeting with the Superintendent.

"Okay Corporal. You ready to stoop to protective detail?" Ripley smirked.

He grinned. "Yes ma'am!"

The walk to the scrap heap was uneventful but pleasant enough considering that the walk was taking place inside a prison. They only strayed from Clemens' direction to make a brief stop at the infirmary. Ripley grabbed an old blanket to carry the broken bits of Bishop back, and they both triple checked to make sure that Newt was still safe. Satisfied, they continued on to the scrap heap.

The EEV was easy enough to find, as it was the largest single object in the heap. However it had since been partially buried under more recent discardings it took a good twenty minutes to unbury the entrance. Hicks was surprised that he was panting slightly, apparently lying in a cryo-chamber for who knows how long, and being the proud owner of a side wound that was once again in danger of ripping its stitches had sucked more of his strength than he had anticipated. That was rather worrying.

Stepping into the EEV was like walking through one of those haunted houses that he had been so terrified of as a kid. It was dark until Ripley managed to get the lights on, allowing them to fully appreciate the random chance of their survival. The entire inside was mangled. Wires hung from the ceiling, dead. Metal had buckled and sheared, leaving jagged edges pointing in every direction, waiting to slice whatever would brush against them. Hicks whistled when he saw the metal beam that had stabbed through his cryo-chamber. His blood covered the inside of the tube.

"Damn. If that had hit just a few inches to the left..."

"What?" Ripley joined him in front of his cryotube. She did not know how close he had come to becoming a human kebab. He lifted his shirt, showing her where the beam had skewered. Her eyes widened but she didn't say anything.

"If it had hit just a few inches to the left, then I wouldn't be here chatting with you." He lowered his shirt, eyes scanning the rest of the escape vehicle. "How is it that we keep managing to cheat death?"

"I don't know, but I think our luck's just run out."

His stomach went into a freefall at the tone of her voice. Turning, he saw the telltale acid burn on the side of Newt's cryotube. _No. Not the kid._

He looked up to Ripley. She stood staring at the burn, her entire body quivering, hands clenched into iron fists. He turned her to face him.

"Hey, this doesn't mean anything." He said softly. "We need to find Bishop, he should be able to tell us exactly what happened."

Ripley gave a single nod but the motion caused the tears that had been held back to break loose and run down her cheeks. He wiped them away.

"It'll be alright."

She wiped her eyes angrily and squared her shoulders, the fighter was emerging and Hicks knew that she would be able to handle the situation.

"Let's get Bishop."


	5. Express Elevator to Hell

-Express Elevator to Hell. Going Down-

Bishop was a complete mess. No longer an android, he had devolved into a heap of wires and tubes with a vaguely humanoid appearance, coated in a milky fluid. The 'skin' of his head had peeled off, giving the impression that someone had been interrupted during an attempt to scalp him.

"Ah, Bishop. What happened to you?" Hicks murmured as he fiddled with wires in an attempt to reactivate the android. There was a frantic rustling behind the plastic curtain at his back.

"I can't find anything!" He picked up on the barely controlled panic in Ripley's voice as she pulled the curtain back. As soon as they had returned to the infirmary, deconstructed android in tow, Ripley dashed off to scour Newt for any signs that a face-hugging alien might have attached itself to the girl and impregnated her. That was as close as Hicks had come to seeing Ripley completely lose control. It unnerved the hell out of him.

"Should we call the doctor to look at her?" Another slight twang of hysteria, less than the last though.

"We don't know anything for sure." He examined the ends of two tubes, they looked like they went together, "Let's get Bishop up and running first. I mean, it may not even be one of those things, it could just be a bad day at the prison."

He heard her sigh. "Yeah, you're right."

Hicks glanced up. Ripley stood, arms folded, watching him as he absentmindedly connected two tubes that were apparently not meant to be connected.

"SONOFABIT—" he managed to get out before the electricity clamped his jaw in place. He jumped back from Bishop's milky remains. His fingers tingled and a free floating thought ricocheted through his mind.

Hudson had always been the techno-wiz.

Why did he keep doing that? He didn't need to be distracted, thinking about his dead comrades, not now at least. It's not even like it was the first time that he had been with a soldier who was killed during a mission. It had happened before, and he had never had this sort of lingering response. Although usually the survivors vastly outnumbered the casualties, not the other way around.

"Do you want me to try?"

Her amused smile stopped just short of reaching her eyes, but he'd take it anyway.

"That might be a good idea since I have no idea what I'm doing."

She gave a dry chuckle.

"Yeah, no kidding soldier."

She eased into the chair and set to work on repairing Bishop. Silence tiptoed into the room; tempered only by the quiet tune that Ripley was humming as she worked. Hicks thought it sounded like "You are my Lucky Star", but he thought it best not to distract Ripley while she fiddled with the electronics. So he fell in to sentry duty. He walked to the door of the infirmary, poked his head out and seeing that there was nothing out of the ordinary, walked back to start his vigil standing between Ripley and Newt.

The Colonial Marine Corps, despite all the advertised action, mainly consisted of waiting. "Hurry up and wait" was repeatedly hammered into the Marines' heads. When they tell you to move, you move like you have a purpose. When they tell you to wait, you wait. It doesn't matter how long – minutes, hours, days, you could sit and wait until the end of time if you were ordered to. Hicks was nothing if not patient.

Not this time.

This time he couldn't stand the wait. Five minutes stretched into ten. He shifted from foot to foot.

Ten minutes stretched into twenty. He nervously cracked his knuckles until Ripley told him to knock it off.

Twenty minutes stretched into an hour. He began to seriously consider shadow puppets. Anything to keep him from being left alone with his thoughts. If Hicks didn't keep himself occupied then his mind would explode into images of aliens breaking into the barricade on LV-426. The sound of the final violent moments of his fellow Marines would ring in his ears. His nose would fill with the scent of his own acidified, melting flesh and his face and chest would once again sear as the acid ate through them again.

No. It was far better to do shadow puppets.

"I think I've got it!" Ripley's exclamation relieved Hicks. He has been spared his dignity and his all too tangible memories.

"All right, let's get him going." He moved closer, leaning in on the chair that Ripley had occupied. She nodded and connected a thin cable from some sort of power terminal to the back of the android's head.

The entire Bishop mess twitched, releasing a pitiful garbled sound from the back of his mouth.

"Hang on a sec." She reached her hand into Bishop's throat and adjusted something technical back there. Hicks had no idea what it was.

"Hello Bishop. Can you feel anything?" Ripley asked.

"Yes." While audible, his voice was still weak and Hicks had to lean in closer to hear him. "My legs hurt."

The android's remaining eye fixed on Hicks.

"Corporal Hicks. Nice to see you intact. Although you look how I feel."

Ripley snickered.

"Yeah, I was about to say the same to you. But enough of the pleasantries, we need you to do something."

"Bishop, can you access the data on the flight recorder?" Ripley asked.

"No problem."

Ripley plugged one of the spaghetti wires dangling out the back of Bishop's head into the EEV's black box. The entire mass twitched again, the eye rolling around in its socket. After a few moments Bishop returned to normal, well, normal for still being completely obliterated.

"I'm home."

"Bishop, what happened to the Sulaco? Why were we ejected?" Hicks asked, voice dangerously calm.

"Fire in cryogenic compartment. " The voice was not Bishop's. Instead he spoke as the 'voice' of the Sulaco. Hicks had always felt that the voice always had the most inappropriate tone for the occasion. Now, for example, mocking cheeriness.

"Repeat. Fire in cryogenic compartment. All personnel report to the nearest evacuation point."

"But what caused the fire?"

The pause stretched on. Hicks began to wonder if androids could fall asleep. He didn't think shaking the mutilated droid was a good idea however, so he waited again.

"The fire was electrical. It was in the subflooring." Bishop answered.

"Bishop, was there an alien with us?"

Hicks noticed Ripley stop breathing, breath poised for Bishop's answer. He gripped the back of the chair until his hands became numb. Neither of them dared move -- it would jinx the answer.

Bishop blinked. "Yes."

_No. No. No. No. Not again. Please not again. Please no. _The Corporal felt as if the world was swallowing him up in its own sadistic joke. _No, not again. It can't happen again._

He swallowed, falling back on his training once again.

"Was it still on the Sulaco or did it come with us on the EEV?"

This time the android spared no time in delivering their sentence. "It was with us all the way."

"Does the company know?" Ripley's voice was dead.

"They know everything that happened on the ship. It all goes into the computer and gets –"

"THEY'RE ALL DEAD!" Hicks' head snapped up as someone in the hall shrieked as if it was the last thing he would ever do, "THE DRAGON! THEY'RE ALL DEAD!"

Hicks made it across the infirmary in four strides and threw the door open. He saw movement as a group of men were trying to wrestle one man down the hall. The man continued to shriek.

"NO! THE DRAGON! THE DRAGON KILLED THEM ALL!"

A presence appeared next to him, Ripley had joined him. Her eyes took in the scene with silent resignation.

"Bishop's been disconnected." She said, "He wanted it."

Hicks nodded. It looked like the screaming man was being dragged off to the warden's office.

"Hey Ripley." he said, looking over at her.

"Yeah?"

"I think it's time to go bug hunting."

Her face lit up in a way that only a combat-hardened veteran's could. She was out for blood this time, this third time.

"Damn straight."

A grim smile found its way on to Hicks' face. There would not be a fourth time.


	6. It's a Bughunt

-It's a Bughunt-

They set off in the direction of the screams. Now confident of what it was that he was being forced to face, Corporal Hicks marched towards his destination at a brisk walk, his long strides propelling him as fast as if he were running. Ripley kept pace with him and he smiled in a small corner of his mind. The rest of it had been enveloped in battle calm – an almost too lucid frame of mind dominated by pure logic and observation. One section of his mind was busy replaying every encounter he had had the misfortune of experiencing with the alien species, while another part was scrutinizing and cataloguing any potential weaknesses. Meanwhile a separate region of his brain was diligently absorbing the minutiae of his surroundings.

Added all together, the situation was certainly less than ideal. Although, it was not completely catastrophic. It had taken dozens if not hundreds of the animals to wipe out his squad on LV – 426, but if Bishop was right, there seemed to be only one that needed to have its ass kicked. Advantage: Humans.

In addition to superior numbers, Hicks took into account the fact that the human population was composed of maximum security prisoners. If anyone had a "survive at all costs" attitude it had to be these deviants. Humans: two, Aliens: zero.

Now all he had to do was pit this rag tag bunch of criminal comrades against a being whose blood could eat through a fully armored man, whose birth rips open the chest cavity of its host and who has a tendency to move around completely undetected.

Humans: two, Aliens: three.

"Well, at least I know what I'm getting into this time." He muttered, rounding the corner to where the screams had ended.

At least a dozen bald and barcoded heads spun in his direction. He froze.

"Oh shit." Ripley's whisper was the only sound to float through the corridor.

The mass of miscreants were clustered outside a door with 'SUPERINTENDENT ANDREWS' stamped in three-inch letters. However their attention was solely focused on the two unwanted guests. Well, one unwanted guest. Hicks noted.

Most of the men focused entirely on Ripley. He had seen a starving dog look the same way at a piece of meat once – it hadn't ended well for the piece of meat. To her credit, Ripley stood still beside him appearing completely calm while pairs of ravenous eyes gazed at her, their intentions painfully obvious. The Corporal shifted to where he could at least partially shield Ripley from the nauseating ogling of the deviants. Distracted from his plan to eradicate the alien, Hicks assumed his most bad-ass defensive posture. A few of the convicts got the message and returned their focus to whatever was going on behind the door. The rest mirrored his defensive stance with subtle hostility.

_What well behaved prisoners._ Hicks thought. _No guards and they're holding back. I hope this doesn't happen when the creature comes for them. _

"I have to say this is quite a long way off from the infirmary." Clemens shimmied out of the group towards the Corporal.

"We have a major problem." Ripley said in monotone, glancing at the doctor.

"I'll say we do at that." Clemens leaned in, "What are you thinking wandering around? Are you looking to get yourselves killed?"

"It's not exactly Plan A, but if we don't hurry it'll become a very real possibility." Hicks said without taking his eyes off of the mass of convicts.

"What are you talking about?"

"Look, we need to speak with the Superintendent right now." Said Ripley.

"I'm afraid that's not possible. Two of the inmates went missing, the third came back covered in blood and raving about some dragon."

_That'd be what we're looking for. _

"The Superintendent is currently questioning Golic, and I suspect will continue to question him for some time." The doctor paused, "Perhaps I can be of service?" he asked, turning to Ripley.

Her eyes focused on the Corporal for a beat. Hicks tried to decipher her intense gaze, it was obvious that she was trying to tell him something but this time his decryption skills fell flat. He raised an eyebrow questioningly but she had already turned back to Clemens.

"Can you do a full examination of Newt? I'm worried that she may be carrying some sort of contagion." The words poured out, one over another in a desperate attempt not to waste time.

Hicks gave himself a mental slap on the forehead. Of course, had they not just talked about getting the doctor to examine Newt? Obviously if an alien had exploded out of Newt, then the girl wouldn't be tucked safely into bed in the infirmary, but Hicks had decided never to come between Ripley and her maternal instincts. After all, she had run back into an alien nest with an impending nuclear explosion to rescue the kid. There wasn't a power in the universe that could stop her.

"That won't be necessary."

"And why is that exactly?" Hicks asked.

"I'm a doctor." The patronizing tone razor sharp. "I completed a thorough inspection of the girl upon her arrival. She was clean."

Hicks felt relief spread from Ripley to himself. It was short lived.

A gut-wrenching crash exploded from behind the door to the Superintendent's office. The split second of silence had everyone looking at one another in shock and confusion, stunned by the sudden noise. Military training kicking in, Hicks was the first to recover and ran over, throwing the door open with such force that it pulled halfway off of its hinges. The sight before the Corporal was one that he had never seen yet it felt horrifyingly familiar.

A man splashed in blood was huddled behind a flimsy wooden chair in a straightjacket in the corner of the room. Strangled cries while unintelligible conveyed pure unadulterated terror. Eyes wide, focused on the center of the room.

A pair of feet dangled out of the ceiling, kicking weakly as blood dripped off of them and pooled on the overturned desk directly beneath. There was a violent thrashing motion, a stomach churning crunch and the feet stopped moving.

Hicks lunged for the Superintendent's shoes but they vanished into the ceiling before the Corporal could grab anything more than a blood soaked shoelace. He could hear the monster drag the body overhead.

"Yeah, you better run." Hicks growled to the retreating creature, "I'm coming for you, you fucker."

He felt a hand on his shoulder pulling him out of the Superintendent's office now dripping bits of the Superintendent. He was losing his cool. The entire time on LV-426 he had been calm and focused even when his unit was being obliterated by wave after wave of alien creatures fell upon them. Now he lost it at the sight of a single alien? No. He would not let it happen again. Fortunately as Ripley pulled him out of the room the uproar of the cons still out in the corridor pummeled Hicks back into focus.

Some were jostling to get a closer look at the carnage of the room. Others retreated, hands covering their mouths and disgust plastered on their faces. Voices rose in various exclamations, generally betraying the inmates fear.

"What the bloody hell was that?!"

"Well we're right fucked now!"

"I never much liked him anyways."

"So, I take it that you both know what that thing was."

Once again Clemens popped up in front of Ripley and Hicks. Eyes wide in panic, the doctor did his best to appear calm and nonchalant in front of them. Inwardly Hicks chuckled. Oh how the tables had turned; no longer would the doctor speak to him like he was brain dead.

"Yeah." Grunted Hicks as he pushed past the doctor, walking away from the room steeped in gore.

"Then how do we kill it?" Clemens voice wavered. He followed Hicks and Ripley like a small child afraid of being left behind by his parents.

"Well that depends on what we've got to work with." Ripley began, "You see, the last time I dealt with these things an entire unit of Colonial Marines – armed to the teeth and fully armored by the way – the entire unit was wiped out, except for Corporal Hicks."

Uncomfortable with the memory, Hicks pressed his lips together in a grim line. Ripley continued.

"Luckily I think we're only dealing with one creature here. Maybe two tops." She glanced over at Hicks. He nodded. It fit with his earlier assessment of their situation. "All is not lost. Not yet at least. What have we got in the way of weapons?"

"This is a prison. It's not generally a good idea to allow prisoners access to firearms."

Hicks spun around. This would completely change his decision that humans had the narrow advantage.

"Then what keeps them from killing you?" he asked.

"We're on the honor system."

_Ah hell. _The Corporal was speechless. Once again his training kicked in and he tried to find a way to kill the creature using sticks and stones. The outcome was bleak.

"Wait. You're telling me that you have no weapons of any kind in this entire facility?" Ripley asked slowly, as if the doctor had simply misunderstood her previous question.

"There are some carving knives in the abattoir and mess hall and a few fire axes scattered about. That's it though."

"Then we're fucked."

Clemens gulped. One of those over-the-top cartoonish gulps that so nicely sums up the hopelessness of a situation.

Just as one part of Hicks' mind produced the less than helpful _"we are beyond fucked"_ a separate part clicked into place.

"What do we actually have to work with?"

Ripley raised an eyebrow and Clemens just looked confused.

"I mean, it's just an animal right? We should be able to kill an animal without high tech weapons." Encouraged by the slight smile on Ripley's face Hicks continued. "Does this facility have plans, blueprints, something to show every structural feature?"

"I believe so."

"Outstanding. Grab all the plans and get everyone in to the mess hall in five minutes." He paused, excitement building. "We just might still have a chance."

The doctor nodded then turned and sped off to complete his tasks. Hicks found he and Ripley standing outside the infirmary door. Ripley smiled.

"Just an animal huh? The fact that it has concentrated acid for blood and a razor tail _couldn't possibly _hurt our chances right?"

"I've always considered myself a glass-half-full sort of person."

Ripley laughed. It was a wonderful sound. That was until it devolved into a hacking cough. Ripley doubled over coughing and attempting to breathe. Hicks rushed over just as she stood up, gasping.

"Woah, you okay?" Concern etched in his voice.

"Yeah." She took a deep breath. "Yeah, I usually feel sick for awhile after coming out of hyper-sleep."

He was still worried. While it was not uncommon for people to feel ill after waking up, he couldn't be too careful.

"Are you sure?" he asked.

She smiled reassuringly.

"Absolutely." She said as she stepped into the infirmary.


	7. How do I get out?

-How Do I Get Out of this Chickenshit Outfit-

Hicks caught sight of the creature a split second before Ripley. He knew it because he had already grabbed her arm and pulled her behind him before he felt her tense.

The alien did not notice them.

Hicks glanced around the room, looking for anything within arm's reach that could be used as an effective weapon.

There was nothing.

He slowly inched forward in an attempt to find anything that he could use to bludgeon the thing. About halfway down the left side of the room was a two-foot chunk of a metal pipe lying on the ground. It looked as though it had been ripped off when the alien dropped down from the ceiling. It would have to do.

Keeping his eyes fixed on the creature, he began to tread towards the pipe. The alien looked different than the ones he encountered on LV-426. It stood in the center of the room swaying slightly as if it were sampling the air. It was big. Bigger than he remembered at least. Its whip-like tail swung back and forth, bored. He never appreciated how much the tail looked like a human spine. How ominous.

Hicks continued to make observations as he closed the distance to the pipe. Eyes glued to the creature, he felt metal brush under his fingertips, and vanish as the pipe rolled away.

The hollow tube clanged against the grimy yellow tiles. The sound echoed through the formerly silent room.

_Oh shit._

Its shining black body quivered and whipped around. Hicks groped for the pipe.

_Come on. Come on. COME ON. _

Thick clear slime trickled to the floor as its jaw stretched open and a smaller set of mandibles shot out.

It lunged.

Hicks wrapped his hand around the cool metal pipe and swung. He didn't have time to register what happened as he dove towards the middle of the room. He spun around, crouching, to keep an eye on his opponent. Apparently dazed, it seemed to take the alien a few seconds to register that the Corporal had moved. Hicks made the most of the time and circled around the creature, pulling it into the open. Its entire body quivered and its smaller jaw snapped impatiently.

"C'mon you sonofabitch." Hicks muttered.

The alien obliged.

From out of nowhere the spined tail lashed out. It was as if the entire world suddenly decided to move at one tenth the speed. Hicks observed the razor end swinging at him and realized that he was about to be in a lot of pain.

Still, the Corporal tried to deflect the impending blow. His reaction time was too slow. The end of the tail was buried a good two inches into his flesh before his mind was aware that he had been stabbed. The end of the tail protruded from his back a good four inches by the conclusion of that thought.

The pipe was lost as he used both of his hands to disgorge the appendage from his shoulder. He gripped the vertebras of the tail only to find himself floating above the ground moving closer to the shaking jaws of the alien.

"HEY SHITHEAD OVER HERE!" Hicks turned. Ripley stood in the doorway waving her arms, brown eyes furious.

"NO GODDAMIT!" Hicks shouted. He was supposed to protect her, and here he was once again impaled, watching as Ripley tried to get herself killed. His hands clamped onto the tail and with teeth gritted, pushed away from himself. He could feel the bony exoskeleton ripping through his shoulder as he continued to pull it out. The alien moved around him.

_Come on. You're getting close to the end. Just a little bit further._

Sweat dripped into his eyes, momentarily blinding him. Suddenly the creature whipped its tail around. There was a squelching pop and the Corporal flew headfirst into a medicine cabinet. He felt it explode around him as bits of wood and glass burrowed into his skin. Warm blood filled his mouth, choking him as he pushed himself out of the rubble. Something red caught his eye on the wall where the cabinet had stood. Fire axe. Probably purposely hidden from the inmates behind the medicine cabinet. The glass broke easily under his elbow and the bright red axe came out almost begging to be used. The handle was smooth, his hands steadied.

The alien had its back towards him, quivering in its pre-attack ritual as it cornered Ripley. He heard her hold her breath, and swung.

The axe arced through the air and hit its mark beautifully. Where the alien's spine tail had been there was now a small stump. Hicks jumped back from the green blood spurting from the wound since he had no intention to relive the chest-full of acid that he was hit with during his last mission. The creature screamed and pulled itself back into the ceiling.

Humans: one, Alien: zero.

Hicks could feel the stupid grin spreading across his face again. Ripley was alive. The thing hadn't even noticed Newt lying in the corner of the room and he was more or less alive. Not bad.

"We better get you to the Doctor." Ripley's eyes were huge and she looked ashen. Her breathing was ragged and shaky.

"You alright?"

Ripley laughed, hard. Over the years Hicks had become intimately acquainted with the different methods used to cope with stress. Vasquez usually turned to weight lifting, Hudson to his smart-ass comments, Hicks usually let himself fall asleep, so it made perfect sense for Ripley to have a great guffaw after their near death experience.

"You look like you just got in a fight with a cheese grater and you're asking if I'm okay?" She shook her head and smiled. It did not reach her eyes.

"Yeah well sometimes such stunning displays of heroism can be overwhelming." He smirked.

She gave a dismissive wave of her hand.

"All you did was royally piss it off." She paused, "But I appreciate it anyway."

"Yeah, well perhaps we should keep the thrilling heroics to a minimum. I'm getting tired of having holes punched through me and watching you line yourself up to get killed." She raised an eyebrow.

"Where do you think it went?" she asked.

As long as it was away from them he could not have cared less.

"Probably away from here. Maybe towards the buffet being set up in the mess hall." He mused. It would make sense, following the herd. Well, it would if it were a creature that made any sort of sense. Acid for blood. It still got him every time he thought about it.

"Do you think Newt would be safer with us?" Ripley asked, glancing at the occupied corner bed.

Hicks thought about it. If Newt was with them then they would obviously know where she was and what her condition was. Ripley's maternal instinct would be satisfied with that. However, if they carried Newt around with them there were two major issues that the Corporal could not rationalize trying to overcome. The first being that the unconscious girl would be in the midst of murderers and rapists, and the second being that she would physically slow them down. If it came to a foot race between them and the alien…

"I think it's best to leave her here."

Ripley swallowed and slowly nodded.

"Okay. Let's get down to the mess hall." She gazed at the scummy plastic curtains that hid the occupied corner bed.

Hicks placed his least bloody hand gently on her shoulder.

"We'll come back to her after we kill this thing."

"Yes, we will." She clasped his hand and pulled him towards the infirmary door.

He glanced around, looking for his trusty fire axe. All he could find was a jagged hole eating through the floor where the axe had been.

* * *

"We give you thanks, oh Lord, your wrath has come and the time is near that we be judged. The apocalypse is upon us. Let us be ready. Let your mercy be just."

The prisoner - Dillon someone said his name was – finished his prayer and stepped back, opening the floor to a flood of noise from the other convicts. A small pile of knives and fire axes and blunt objects had been built on a table in the center of the room, surrounded by the deviants.

Hicks sat off to the side as Clemens stitched the gaping hole in his shoulder without making a single snarky comment. It seemed that when faced with his own mortality, the good Doctor decided to re-examine his life. Ripley stood next to Hicks. He kept himself entertained watching the micro expressions on her face shift from bemused to irritated as the clamor continued.

"We're so screwed." She muttered.

Her lips pressed together in a grim line. It was obvious that some sort of leader was needed, and Hicks figured that he would have fill that role eventually, once he could no longer see through his shoulder. He was not looking forward to assuming command, the last time he was in charge it had not ended up well. But in the mean time he was actually kind of curious to see how this would turn out.

One of the convicts' voices rose above the rest.

"Well who's in charge? I mean we need to get organized here, right?"

_Smart guy. _

"I guess…I guess I'm next in line." Timid but pretentious. Obviously Aaron had never truly been in charge of anything in his life. This certainly would not be the time for that to change.

"85's gonna be in charge? Give me a break!"

_Yup. Not this time kiddo, try again later. No way is anyone going to listen to him. _

"Don't call me that! Not now, not ever!" Aaron squeaked. The noise rose again as the men descended into chaos…again.

Ripley rolled her eyes, sighing.

"Hey you, sister! Why don't you take control of this situation? You look like the officer type."

Hicks jumped off of the table and moved next to Ripley.

"Hey!" Clemens exclaimed. Hicks ignored him as Dillon stepped closer to Ripley.

"Why the hell are you even talking to her? She's the one that brought the fucker. We should run her head through a wall." A particularly rodent looking man gesticulated behind Dillon.

"Try it and you will be dead before you take your first step." Hicks' voice was unnervingly even.

"Well what are you waiting for? C'mon! I've sliced bigger fish than you!"

"Morse. Shut your mouth!" Dillon's command brought instant silence and the rodent Morse retreated.

"Now, what are we dealing with sister?"

Ripley's brown eyes found Hicks' and held his gaze as she answered.

"I haven't seen one exactly like this, its legs are different and it's bigger. But the other ones were afraid of fire. Not much else. Can we seal off this area?"

"No chance. The installation is ten miles square. There's six hundred air ducts that run to the surface." Aaron answered.

_Well at least he's good for information._

"Okay, this…thing…is going to keep coming after all of us."

General sounds of dismay and anger echoed through the mess hall.

"We're going to have to try and flush this thing out. Maybe we can trap it until help arrives, I don't know. The point is, we have to _do_ something. It's fast, and it won't go down easy, so we need to be ready."

"Fuck that." Hicks's head spun towards Morse, clenching his fists just in case. "There's no way I'm putting my life at risk for you sods. I'm gonna hide it out and watch it take you out." He jabbed a finger at Ripley.

She took a step forward, squaring her shoulders.

"Fine. If you're too much of a chickenshit to deal with it, go hide. I plan on staying alive. If any of you want to do the same I suggest you ignore that little shit," she indicated Morse, "and help me kill this fucking thing."

Sounds of dissention died then and there. Morse hung his head and fell to the back of the congregation. The rest simply waited for Ripley to give them direction.

Hicks felt the grin spread across his face and rekindle his spirit. He had complete faith that Ripley would get them out alive. She turned and smiled at him. He was going to get her out alive.

_Hoorah. _


	8. Maybe We Got 'Em Demoralized

-Maybe we got 'em demoralized-

The man next to Hicks whistled as he slopped more of the highly flammable liquid all over the floor. It was an airy whistle, the kind that only occurs when someone blows air through their teeth instead of through pursed lips. It reminded the Corporal very much of a janitorial cliché.

"You know, I saw a drum of this crap fall into a beachhead bunker one time, blast put a tug in dry dock for seventeen weeks…it's great stuff."

Leaning against his mop, Hicks pulled down the bandana that was covering his nose and mouth. He felt the fumes seep into his nostrils, giving him a stabbing headache behind his eyes.

"What's it called again?" he asked, wiping the sweat off of his forehead.

"Quinitricetyline. Should make the little bugger piss itself." The man chuckled and resumed spreading the liquid around the floor.

"It better do more than that." Hicks muttered, pulling the bandana back over his nose and mouth.

The plan was to flush the alien out of the pipes, ducts or whatever it was running around in, and force it into a nuclear waste disposal site where it would be trapped behind walls of six foot thick solid steel. From there the thing could starve to death, or suffocate. Whichever came first, it didn't really matter since there was no way it could get out. Aaron had assured them of that.

_"The walls are six feet thick, solid steel. No way to get out." He stroked the door in admiration, "They really knew how to build these babies..."_

_Ripley slapped the button on the control box. The monstrous door slammed down with guillotine-like speed. She turned, her lips pressed into a thin smile._

_"So now all we have to do is get it in here."_

_They argued about the best method to lure the alien out of the ducts. Some one suggested the idea of human bait, it was thoroughly put down. Now everyone was shouting ideas or shouting about the ideas. They had been doing that for thirty minutes. Hicks concentrated on the building plans in front of him, there were far too many ducts to chase it out. Ripley rubbed her eyes and turned to Aaron._

_"Do we have the capacity to make fire? Mankind has been enjoying that privilege for thousands of years."_

_"No need to get snippy." Aaron muttered._

_"Wait, don't we have those drums of quinitricetyline?" one of the prisoners offered. She rolled her eyes so only Hicks could see. He chuckled and began to flesh out their plan of attack._

Ripley was stationed six inmates away from Hicks, slopping the liquid all over the floor and walls with the rest of them. He had occasionally seen her double over her mop handle, gasping and coughing. He made a move to go over to her but she immediately straightened herself, took a deep breath and shook her head.

"It's just the fumes. Don't worry about it."

He stared at her for a long moment, he wanted her to know that he could tell she was lying and judging by her hasty movement to raise the filthy piece of cloth back over her nose and mouth and turning away from his gaze, she understood.

He returned to his mopping, shoulder and side twinging as he worked. If the everything went as it was supposed to, he could avoid getting impaled again. Of course nothing so far had come even remotely close to going to plan. It seemed the universe enjoyed bouncing him from one FUBAR situation to another...it was getting old.

"IT'S IN THE TUNNELS!" The cry reverberated through the tunnel network, delivering its payload of unbridled panic with surgical precision. The tunnel Hicks was in erupted into an undulating ball of chaos. Mops and strangled cries were thrown into the air, the inmates pushed past one another, going nowhere. Someone decided it was really clever to overturn a half full barrel of quinitricetyline. Some of it splashed onto the Corporal's shoes and pants.

_That's not gonna end well_. Hicks groaned inwardly. Outwardly he was stepping back into his military training.

"EVERYBODY SHUT UP!" His bellow, while not bringing instant silence brought a distinct lessening in the level of noise. Some eyes turned towards him.

"GET A HOLD OF YOURSELVES!" This time silence followed. He stepped forward.

"Look, we all knew this thing was here with us. That's the reason we came up with this whole plan." He gestured over the sheen of the liquid on the walls and floors. "If we lose it now then we will all die. Calm down, stick to the plan. Nobody so much as thinks of setting this stuff on fire until I tell you to. Understood?"

Nobody moved. Somewhere in the back of the group someone was whimpering.

"I ASKED IF YOU UNDERSTOOD!" The days of bootcamp filled him up with images of drill instructors howling in his face. In the military it generally elicited a pumped up response. This was not the case for prisoners paralyzed by a fear usually only felt by their victims.

Dillon stepped out of the throng.

"We get you brother. Now what do you need us to do?"

The orders flowed. It only took a few minutes to get everyone stationed, although he had some serious doubts about their resolve. Half of them were withdrawn and mute while the others talked too loud. One man's hand shook as he accepted the flare from Hicks.

"Stay frosty." The last time Hicks had said those words Vasquez, Hudson and Gorman had been killed. He shook his head, evicting the memory. This time he had the advantage. He knew what he was up against. He had a solid plan. He had already wounded the alien. It was going to go differently this time. It had to - because he said so. The universe would just have to deal with it.

"So Corporal, where do you want me?"

_Anywhere, as long as it's away from all of this._ Hicks' subconscious automatically responded to Ripley's question. He chuckled half-heartedly.

"You think I'm in charge here? I was just killing time until you told me what to do."

She cracked a smile. A genuine, honest-to-goodness smile that made Hicks forget that he was standing in a puddle of highly flammable liquid, in a maximum security prison, on a deserted planet with a pissed off alien.

"Mind if I flip the switch? I kind of feel like it's about as personal as it can get."

Reality slapped back at Hicks' face. He smiled.

"Sure. It's all yours."

She looked as if she was about to say something else but thought better of it and made to leave.

"Well, let's move like we have a purpose."

* * *

Something was wrong in the tunnels. An argument wafted its way lazily out of one of the tunnels to Hicks' right.

"I don't care what he says, I don't need to see it to know it's there."

"Don't be stupid. He knows what he's doing."

"Just who are you calling stupid?"

"You if you even think about lighting that thing."

"Fuck you! I'm not putting my life in the hands of some government tool!"

"I'll kill you if you try and light that."

"Oh really?"

"Yeah, really."

"Well then give it your best shot!"

_Aw hell no_.

Hicks couldn't make out which came first; the scream, the universally recognizable sound of a flare being lighted or his own frantic bellow. The order had no real effect on his thought:

_We are fucked._

The fireball careened through the tunnels, blasting everything out of its way and scorching it as it hung in the air. Hicks dove to the side, feeling the roiling inferno shoot past his feet. He saw Ripley get knocked back by the blast and smash into a fiery wall. The flailing bodies of prisoners flew past him out of the tunnel. He pushed himself off the ground and staggered towards where he had seen Ripley land.

Something smelled like it was burning. He glanced down, the quinitricetyline on his shoes and pants had combusted and orange flames ate through the fabrics to his skin. Before he had time to act someone crashed into his legs, knocking him over. Ripley was on top of him holding some sort of cloth, furiously struggling to smother the flames that were consuming the lower half of his body. Every time she smothered one set of flames the quinitricetyline in another area would combust. She was struggling through a losing battle. Hicks grit his teeth against the pain and tried to pat out some of the fire with his hands. This only spread the flammable liquid.

Suddenly it began to rain. The fire sizzled and gave up. Ripley closed her eyes, raising her head to the sprinkle of water and breathing deeply. Hicks struggled to sit up and examine the damage, but was unable to see his feet as Ripley still sat on top of his legs. Aside from some minor scratches and burns she looked otherwise completely and mysteriously unharmed.

"Are you okay?" He rasped, looking her over.

She opened her eyes slowly, focusing on his face with intense clarity.

"I thought that you were as good as dead." A hint of a smile crept into her voice. "And you're asking me if I'm okay?"

"Well...are you?"

"I've been through worse. This was just..." she froze, staring at something just over his shoulder. It was behind him.

_ARE YOU SERIOUS?_ He silently screamed at fate, the universe or nothing in particular. His entire body tensed, counting down. _Three...two...ONE._

In a single fluid motion he was out from under Ripley and turned toward the monster behind him. It stood as it had before, only this time there was no razor tail waving back and forth. It quivered, opening its jaw so the smaller set of mandibles could protrude, hissing. It started to advance, confident in its steps and in the complete and total helplessness of its prey.

Hicks pushed Ripley behind him, his retreat timed to the creature's advance. His mind was consumed by two things; the string of obscenities that coursed through like a river in the background of some picture and the search for an escape route. He glanced around, they were in the fortified nuclear waste disposal chamber.

Ripley whispered with her mouth close enough to the Corporal's ear to cause the hair on the back of his neck to stand up.

"Get ready."

"For what?" he whispered back, but it was too late. Before the last syllable had left his mouth Ripley was out from behind him, sprinting towards the far side of the room. The alien spun and followed. It took it only a few seconds to catch up to her and corner her against the far wall.

Hicks was gone in an instant, flying towards them, preparing himself to hear the screams and watch as she was eviscerated in front of him.

There were no such sounds.

Ripley stood pressed against the wall, her body positioning itself as far away from the creature as possible. The alien's head stopped two inches from her face, and then pressed in, snorting. It looked as if it was smelling her.

_What am I supposed to do now?_ He wondered. If he moved, the thing might decide that smelling Ripley wasn't as exciting as ripping her to pieces. She couldn't move, for obvious reasons. There was nothing to do but wait it out.

The room shook. Another ball of fire careened towards them as the last of the quinitricetyline finally caught flame. The creature shrieked and bolted past Hicks, out the door and vanished back into the tunnels.

Ripley slumped down the wall, breathing heavily.

"Hicks...I need to get to the EEV." she gasped.

He nodded, wrapping an arm around her waist and holding her arm over his shoulders. No further explanation was needed. There was a CAT-scan machine in the escape pod. This way he would know whether she had any internal injuries from the blasts, or even the crash. Dr. Clemens was not on his list of most trusted people at the moment. He wouldn't be surprised if the good doctor had overestimated Ripley's clean bill of health. She stumbled for a few steps before Hicks simply scooped her up in his arms, cradling her to the wreck.

* * *

The EEV was just as they had left it, mangled and set atop the junk heap. Dodging the wires and pipes hanging limply in the entrance, Hicks navigated to the unharmed neuroscanner. He set Ripley down by the tube and then moved off to get the machine started while she stripped down to her underwear. He had no idea what he was doing, had Hudson - the technical whizkid of the squad - he would have been able to press a few buttons and have the machine doing somersaults in no time. Ripley picked up on his hesitation. He certainly had no intention of accidently electrocuting her.

"Hit either 'B' or 'C'. What's C?" she asked, her voice muffled by the tube.

"Display biofunctions." Hicks read.

"That one."

He pressed the button. The display above her head flickered to life showing a scan of her head. He wiped some grime off of the screen.

"Okay, now what?"

"Try 'B'."

He pressed it and the scanner crawled over her body. His eyes were welded to the screen.

The inside of her head slowly moved past on the monitor. Then came her neck, followed by her shoulders. He froze.

_God, no._

The scanner stopped over Ripley's torso. It's blue light refracting in the tube. He was not aware of her wriggling out of the scanner. He only became aware of her presence over his shoulder when her breath caught.

They stood staring at the screen for a length of time that stretched into ages. The image of the alien embryo gestating inside of Ripley's chest consumed the entirety of Hicks' conscious mind. Ripley breathed behind him.

"A queen."

She moved abruptly and pulled on her clothes. Her eyes stared off at some unseen point in the distance as she squared her shoulders.

"Well. Let's go." she said, not looking at him. He couldn't move. His limbs had become anchors weighting him down, preventing him from helping her. He had never experienced this before, the incapacitating shock and anguish. His eyes struggled to her face; she still was not looking at him, but he thought he caught the shimmer of unshed tears.

Suddenly he was able to stand. His arms were around her, pulling her body into his. It was all he could do to offer her protection from the monster that would rip its way out of her. She buried her face into his shoulder as her tough-as-nails facade cracked. He could tell that she was crying only from the wet patch that grew on his shoulder and her occasional shuddering breaths. He pressed his lips to the top of her head.

"This isn't over yet. There's a way to save you and I am going to find it." he murmured.

But the only thing he could think of was her words earlier.

_"You're not going to let me wind up like those colonists on LV-426, you'll take care of it?"_

_I'm not going to let you wind up like those colonists Ripley. I promise. This isn't over yet..._

_This isn't over yet..._


	9. Stop Your Grinnin' and Drop Your Linen

-Stop Your Grinnin' and Drop Your Linen-

The group sprawled around the cafeteria. Slouched and demoralized, they were all sapped of ideas. Nobody spoke, they just stared blankly at whatever was in front of them, eyes dead. A few of them occasionally let out pathetic whimpers or moans, but otherwise shock had rendered the convicts speechless.

Hicks had left Ripley sitting on Newt's cot, holding her hand. He had not wanted to interrupt so he silently left the room in search of Clemens. The doctor sat among the rest of the convicts, looking more pouty than demoralized. He gave a start when Hicks spoke to him, his voice slicing through the muted moans of the other survivors.

"We need to talk. Right now." Hicks was pleased that Clemens picked up on the seriousness in his voice. The man jumped up and followed the Corporal outside of the cafeteria and down the hall a ways. Spinning to face the doctor Hicks began to speak.

"Ripley's got one of those things inside of her," the doctor's eyes widened to fill up most of his face, "It's not full sized, obviously. They gestate inside a living host, just beneath the ribcage, and when it's time they..." his voice trailed off. His mind suddenly taken hostage by the image of the miniature queen ripping its way out of Ripley's chest. He felt such a primordial fear settle in his stomach like a swallowed brick. Clemens seemed to understand though. His eyes grew even wider.

Hicks quashed the gruesome scene and contined.

"What I want to know is, are you able to surgically remove it?"

Clemens considered it. He closed his eyes as they stood in silence for a few moments. Then he spoke.

"No, I'm sorry Corporal. I can't."

"No, that would be too easy." Hicks muttered, angrily kicking at a piece of debris.

"I am truly sorry. We just don't have the equipment. It isn't even a matter of the proper equipment, I don't have anything that would allow me to perform any sort of open chest surgery...and still have the patient survive." He added as Hicks opened his mouth to remind him of the kitchen cutlery.

The two men stood in silence.

"How long does she have?" Clemens asked quietly.

"I don't know." the Corporal answered, despair creeping into his voice. "I don't know how long it takes."

"Well maybe she'll hold out until the rescue arrives."

Something clicked into place with the doctor's words.

_The Company._

If Burke was willing to get one of those things inside Ripley and Newt in the midst of a shitstorm like LV-426, then maybe someone at The Company was willing to get one out of Ripley.

The single thought exploded in Hicks' mind. He could save her. There was still hope.

"Has The Company sent any messages since we've arrived?" The words came tumbling out so fast that he was not sure that the doctor would be able to distinguish them.

"I...I'm not sure." Clemens said, "You'd have to ask Aaron. The superintendent and I never really got on well."

But Hicks was already sprinting back down the hall to the cafeteria.

* * *

Aaron sat in front of a computer that looked as if it had been the very first model ever made. It was so dusty and decrepit looking that Hicks had serious misgivings about its operational ability. Never the less, when Aaron pushed the start-up button the screen crackled to life, neon green type sprawling across the black background.

"Okay so this is what they sent us after your crash." Aaron's thumb jerked at a block of green words which read:

TO: FURY 161 - CLASS C - PRISON UNIT 1237154

FROM NETWORK COMCON 01500

- WEYLAND - YUTANI - MESSAGE RECEIVED.

RESCUE TEAM EN ROUTE.

"Then I sent them this, after...well, you know."

FURY 161 - CLASS C - PRISON UNIT 1237154

REPORT DEATH OF SUPT. ANDREWS, EIGHT

PRISONERS.

"All they sent back was some piece of shit automated 'Message Received' message. Nothing else. I bet they're just taking their sweet ol' time. No one cares about the poor blokes stuck in the ass end of space with a bunch of fucking cons!" Aaron was verging on hysteria, but he took a breath and seemed to regain control of himself.

"I have a wife and kids." he said as if to excuse his outburst. "I was supposed to go home on the next rotation."

"Hey, it's alright. We'll get you back there, but I need you to send a message back to them. See if it gets them here a bit sooner at least."

Hicks had some misgivings about what he was about to do. If Ripley found out that he was offering The Company the creature inside of her in exchange for her life...

_As long as she doesn't know_.

FURY 161 - CLASS C - PRISON UNIT 12037154

XENOMORPH LOSE IN PRISON. LT. RIPLEY

CONTAMINATED. REQUEST URGENT MEDICAL

ASSISTANCE.

"What do you mean Ripley's contaminated?" Aaron asked as he punched the 'send' button.

Hicks ignored him. Hopefully The Company would pick up on what he meant by contaminated and come rushing to collect their prize specimen. Otherwise...well, he really only had the one plan.

More green text scrolled on the screen.

TO: FURY 161 - CLASS C - PRISON UNIT 1237154

FROM NETWORK COMCON 01500

- WEYLAND - YUTANI - MESSAGE RECEIVED

Hicks' heart sank. Was that all they were going to give him? Maybe he had been too vague in his description of Ripley's current predicament. He had leaned over the keyboard about to type in a new message when the rest of the message scrolled up.

DO NOT APPROACH XENOMORPH. AVOID

CONTACT UNTIL RESCUE TEAM ARRIVES.

MEDICAL TEAM EN ROUTE FOR LT. RIPLEY.

ESTIMATED ARRIVAL TIME 12 HUNDRED

HOURS. REPEAT - DO NOT APPROACH -

Aaron let out a gleeful yell, startling Hicks.

"That's only a few hours from now! We only have to wait a few more hours!"

They're coming. They're coming with a medical team.

The would-be elation was smothered with the Corporal's next dilemma. He needed to find a way to make sure that they saved Ripley. He knew that the alien inside of her would be their top and only priority. He just needed them to save her.

His feet carried him out of the room, leaving Aaron's jubilation behind, and led him through the hall. They directed him past the cafeteria, in which only a handful of convicts remained. They continued to walk him through the prison until they stopped outside of the door to the infirmary.

It seemed odd that his life was now revolving around this grimy, horrible room so far removed from any source of comfort or familiarity. Yet here he was again, walking through its door. At least this time the gaping hole in the ceiling would distract him from the mad scientist-esque plastic curtains.

Ripley was as he had left her. Still sitting on the edge of Newt's bed, holding the girl's small white hand. She looked over at him, a ghost of a smile contorting her pale face making it look as if something inside of her had just twisted, causing her pain.

"How are you holding up?"

"No worse than before." she said, "I was wondering where you had wandered off to."

"I was just talking with Clemens." Her pseudo-smile vanished and she looked away. Wanting to change the subject Hick added, "The rescue team is supposed to arrive in a couple of hours."

Ripley's head snapped back to him, eyes narrowed.

"What did you tell them?" she almost snarled.

"Nothing!" He held up his hands placatingly. "I just asked Aaron to show me if they had sent anything since we crashed, and there was a message that the rescue team would be here in a few hours."

She scrutinized him for a few seconds more before sighing. At least she bought his lie.

"I just don't want them knowing about this. You saw what happened with Burke," Hicks nodded, remembering all too well what that backstabbing corporate tool had tried to pull. "- and he was just one person. The whole Company..."

She trailed off, but her eyes widened.

"Oh shit."

"What?"

"The EEV, the scan. It would have been sent back to The Company. They know there's one inside of me." Ripley look thoroughly horrified and disgusted at the thought, but Hicks was secretly elated. Now there was no reason for Ripley to ever know that he had sent The Company a message basically begging them to take the thing out of her and do whatever they wanted with it.

"Well there's nothing we can do about that now. They're on their way. All we have to do is just hold out for the next couple of hours."

As if to contradict him, shouting erupted in the hallway along with the patter of running feet. Wearily, Hicks jogged over to the door and threw it open. All of the surviving convicts were running forward while someone in the back shouted,

"TO THE LEADWORKS! WE'LL FRY THE BASTARD AND SERVE 'IM UP TO THE RESCUE TEAM!"

Hicks spotted Aaron's face in the crowd and the little man came over, boyish delight plastered all over his face.

"What's happening?" Hicks asked.

"The leadworks!" Aaron squeaked in excitement, "After I saw the rescue was so close I remembered that we had the functioning lead molds!"

"So?" Ripley had come to stand next to them.

"If we can trap the fucker in there then we dump ten tons of molten lead on the little prick! There's no way it could survive!" His grin bridged the space between his ears. "Then we can have a proper rescue, no worries about being ganked by some monster in the process!"

Hicks just stared at the back of the man as he skipped back into the throng of convicts. How had no one thought to mention this before? If they had known then there wouldn't have been the whole quinitricetyline disaster and they could have been rid of this thing ages ago. He allowed himself to visualize how satisfying it would be to watch the thing drown in molten lead.

"You waiting for an engraved invite?" Ripley broke into his daydream. She looked as if she was about to have her one and only dream come true.

"I'm following you." He said motioning to the hall. She turned and sprinted after the group with the Corporal following close behind.

Was there a better way to kill a couple of hours than to have a bit of good old fashioned fury guided vengeance towards the creature that had killed so many of his friends and who was now a ticking bomb inside of Ripley?

Hicks couldn't think of one.


	10. Game Over Man, Game Over

- Game Over Man, Game Over -

The first thing that hit him was the heat. The rippling effect on the air produced by the tons of molten lead made him feel like he had stepped into a dream. Or a flashback. Hicks thought back to the suffocating temperature in the bowels of the atmosphere processor on LV-426... at least here it was a dry heat. If he had been feeling particularly dramatic he could have described the walk down the increasingly warm tunnels to the leadworks as his descent into hell. In reality, it was nothing like that at all. This was not going to be his hell, this was going to be the place of his long-dreamed-for victory. It was as good a place as any to destroy an alien life form.

The convicts had gathered around what Hicks could only discern to be a very large hole. They were all looking into its depths and talking amongst themselves about the benefits of using it as a killing device. He and Ripley stood next to the convict Dillon, who seemed to have once again assumed the role of commander.

"Okay brothers, we know how we're gonna kill it, but now we have to get it in the mold. We've used up the quinitricetyline, and we don't have much in the way of anything. But what we've got is ourselves. I say we go out and fight the fucker, drag it's ass in here and let it burn. We owe it one."

"That's crazy. It'd be a suicide run!" Aaron exclaimed as Hicks watched the color drain from the man's face. Apparently he had not considered how he was going to get the creature into the lead mold when he came up with his brilliant plan. Hicks knew Dillon was right, they did not have anything but themselves with which to lure the beast in. Of course just because it was the truth didn't mean it was any easier an idea to handle. Aaron seemed to be having a particularly difficult time with it.

"Look, The Company is going to be here in a few hours. So why don't we just wait and take it out when we have some guns on our side? We don't need to go running off getting ourselves killed!" Aaron said.

"Because they won't kill it," Ripley voiced. "They may kill you for just having seen it, but they won't kill it."

Aaron looked as if he was about to protest, but Ripley continued.

"Let me tell you a little story about The Company. The first time they heard about this thing, it was crew expendable. The second time they sent some marines - expendable. What makes you think they're gonna care about a bunch of cons in the ass-end of space? They don't. Do you really think they're gonna let you interfere with weapons research? They won't. No, if you want this thing dead then we have to kill it ourselves." She looked over at Hicks, he nodded.

There was silence. Aaron looked as if he was going to retort but was afraid of Ripley destroying any other hope he had of being rescued by The Company. Hicks glanced around, it looked as if everyone else had accepted, if grudgingly, their current predicament. That was good.

"So what's the plan then?" Morse, the rodent looking one asked.

"Plan's simple enough." Dillon stepped back up, "We go out in the tunnels, force it here. Once it's here, we pull the lever, the piston will push it into the mold and then we drop ten tons of molten lead on the fucker's head. Any questions?"

There were no questions. The Corporal's mind whirred, working through each element of the plan. It was as solid as it could be under the circumstances. He glanced into the hole, the lever for the piston was in the same hole. That meant...

"Wait. Whoever's pulling the lever is going to be trapped with the thing until the piston pushes it into the mold. It's going to rip through whoever's there and escape." he said, concerned that their one shot at killing the thing was about to evaporate.

"I'll do it." Ripley's voice wavered slightly.

_Hell no_. Hicks' mind automatically answered. He opened his mouth to relay the message but Dillon beat him to it.

"You lookin' to die sister?" He asked.

"I have one of those things inside of me, a queen." Hicks felt himself tense as she spoke. The fact that she had said it out loud, stated it as a simple matter of fact, made the horror of her situation exponentially more real. He willed his body to uncoil by reminding himself that he still might still be able to get The Company to save her life. His fists remained steadfastly clenched.

Ripley took a breath before continuing.

"It can smell the one inside of me. It won't attack."

"Shit." Hicks muttered. Just because Ripley was the only one that the creature might not attack and therefore had to be the one working the lever, did not mean he had to like it. He would have preferred to lock her in a cell, out of the way until the entire debacle had run its course. At least then there would be some guarantee that she would be in one piece. He refrained however, this was their one chance and he'd just have to make sure she came out of it.

"Alright then," Dillon said, unfazed. "You get to be the triggerman. Everyone else, pick a tunnel. May God be with you brothers."

They all turned and began to assume their positions. Hicks turned to Ripley.

"You don't know for sure that it won't attack you." The words tumbled out of his mouth.

_Ah shit._ He mentally slapped himself. _There's no reason to bring that up, not now._

Her lips compressed into a thin, tired smile which the Corporal found incredibly unnerving. She slipped her hand into his and held it tight, leading him off to the tunnels.

"I know."

* * *

Hicks paced silently in his tunnel. Ripley's parting words wreaking havoc in his mind. It disturbed him how confidently and matter-of-fact she had said them.

"I know."

The words became more and more sinister with each tumble they underwent in his mind. Some small part of him recognized the finality of her statement and recoiled as the recognition consumed the rest of his consciousness.

_She wants to die._

It took every ounce of restraint to keep him from abandoning his post and running to her.

_And do what?_

He shook his head, there was nothing he could do. He found solace in mentally playing back the the image of Ripley, pressed against the wall of the nuclear waste disposal room as the alien pushed its head right up to her face, but didn't do anything. It would be okay. It had to be okay.

He recalled his promise to her. It still stood.

_I just won't let it come to that._

The tunnel began to flicker for a few seconds before settling into a pale, sickly orange glow. Hicks looked at the pathetic little bulb over his head. Someone had managed to get power to the lights. For the amount of light they were giving off it would have been just as well to leave the tunnel black. Almost anything was better than this feeble pseudo-twilight.

Echoes followed in the wake of the new lighting. Hushed at first, they became louder and more frenzied with every reverberation. It had begun.

Hicks jogged around the corner to where his door was. Slightly on edge, he punched the button to test it. It hissed down, stopping a good six inches above the floor.

_Shit_.

He slammed the button again. The door whooshed open only to careen down again as he insistently continued pressing the button. Up and down, each time getting fractionally closer to the the fully closed position.

The echoes were becoming more piercing as they evolved into full-blown screams.

_Shit. Shit. Shit._

He jumped as a particularly piercing shriek reached him. Turning, he pounded the button to bring the door into the open position. He had only managed to get it to close with a gap of three inches, but it would have to do. That last scream was uncomfortably close. The creature would come for him next.

He sprinted back to his starting position, bouncing on the balls of his feet, ready to go. He squinted down the tunnel, there was no movement save for the flickering of a single insubordinate bulb.

Something caught his eye as he blinked. It looked like a shadow moving along the right-hand wall. He stared at the spot, hoping it was just his mind messing with him. His eyes began to water as he continued his unbroken scanning. Then he saw it.

Crawling on the wall, the creature propelled itself towards him in swift silence. Within a few seconds it was no more than ten yards away from him.

Hicks spun and threw himself around the corner towards the door. Legs pumping as if they needed to get a lifetime's worth of use out in just those precious few seconds, they miraculously managed to increase their pace as the clicking of the alien's claws on the walls became nauseatingly near. He refused to look back, afraid that it might be even closer than the thought. His legs threw him through the door. His torso twisted in mid-air as he slammed the button, silently praying that the door would close this time. He landed at the same time a loud THUMP shook the door. The alien had been a breath away from catching him.

It seemed to sense the near miss of its prey as it repeatedly threw itself against the obstruction. The door, open only a half inch at the bottom, did not move. Hicks gazed at the creature through the small glass window in the door and smiled.

"I told you I was coming for you."

The smaller set of mandibles sprang out of the alien's mouth and slammed into the glass, trying to break through to Hicks' skull. The Corporal continued to smile even as the alien turned and ran down the tunnel towards the next person.

"Door B7 secured!" he yelled down the labyrinth of tunnels in the vague direction of Ripley and the piston before heading that way himself.

* * *

He was too late. The piston was already fully extended by the time he arrived and Ripley was nowhere to be found. Something inside of him plummeted. He turned and made his way to the gantry, where the group would congregate after shoving the alien into the lead mold.

Reaching the last few steps, he saw Morse slouched by the controls for the lead. His eyes continued to pan until they found Ripley, back towards him, looking down into the inferno that was occupying the mold.

_They did it._

He clambered to the top, bridging the distance to her in a few steps, pulling her into a fierce embrace and holding her there. He felt her arms wrap around his torso as if they were clutching on to life itself. He concentrated everything on the feeling of her heart beating against his chest. He willed his breathing to slow, allowing his heart to pump in time with hers. She was still alive.

Something moved. He froze. Something had moved under her chest. Slowly, he held her out away from him so that he could look her over.

"Ripley..." he whispered, horror having stolen his voice.

"I know." Tears flowed freely down her face. "Hicks, you promised."

The words, though barely audible, felt as if they had smashed through him and continued on through the wreckage of what was once a person.

"Yeah. Yeah I did." He could see equal parts of relief and fear clashing behind her eyes. "If it comes to that, I will." He held her face as he continued. "But I'm not going to let it come to that."

Her head performed a small bob before she crumpled to the ground, leaning against the wire fence.

"How?" she croaked as he crouched down next to her.

"RIPLEY!" The voice thundered around the room, causing Hicks to search for its source. A man, who looked identical to Bishop was standing by the entryway with Aaron and at least twenty armed, biohazard-suited men behind him. Hicks turned back to Ripley, but she had scrambled up and run around to the other side of the fence. She had been backing out towards the platform that Morse was still sitting on, towards the molten lead in the mold, but she froze when Hicks turned to her.

"Don't come any closer. Stay right where you are." She said towards the men, not taking her eyes away from Hicks.

"Wait! They're here to help!" Aaron's voice rang out, simply and honestly.

Hicks looked at her hard, he did not want her to move. The slight nod of her head signaled that it was okay for him to briefly turn away from her without her moving. He faced the group, squinting at its leader.

"Bishop?" He queried.

The man smiled.

"You know who I am," he said.

"Yeah." Ripley's voice erupted from behind Hicks, he turned back towards her. "A droid. Same model as Bishop. Sent by the fucking Company." Every word was laced with venom and disgust. The man looked nonplussed.

"I'm not the Bishop android. I designed it. I'm the prototype. I'm very human." He grinned, as if to show his very human teeth as proof. "I was sent here to show you a friendly face and to demonstrate how important you are to us. To me. Please come down." The man extended a hand to her.

Ripley glanced back at Hicks.

_Please Ripley, let them help you._ He pleaded with her mentally.

"No bullshit?" She asked, "because I just felt the damn thing move."

The shudder than ripped its way through Hicks at the thought of the thing moving inside of her was quickly suppressed, but still left the Corporal feeling slightly ill.

Bishop smiled again.

"We want to help."

"What exactly does that mean?" Hicks asked, turning towards them.

"We want to take the thing out of her."

"And keep it?" Hicks asked.

"Destroy it."

Hicks looked to Ripley. She was scrutinizing Bishop, clearly wanting to believe him but still unsure if it was right to do so. She took a small step forward, towards them.

"It's very quick," one of the unidentifiable men behind Bishop said, "Painless, just a couple of incisions. You'll be out for two hours."

Ripley took another small step towards them.

"What guarantee do I have, once you've taken this thing out, that you'll destroy it?" She asked.

"You're just going to have to trust me," Bishop answered simply. "You see, we realize now, you're right. But time is important. Let us deal with the malignancy. We've got a surgery room set up on the rescue ship ready to go."

Ripley stood still for a moment, apparently considering his words. She took a step backwards.

_No!_

Hicks frantically began scanning the route around the fence to Ripley, trying to gauge how long it would take him to reach her. If he moved before she did, he would have a shot at stopping her from jumping into the mold. He began easing himself into position.

"Trust me, please," Bishop said, hand extended again. His attention was momentarily diverted as another indistinguishable man walked out, carrying a small blonde girl who was very clearly awake.

"Newt..." Hicks breathed, unable to believe it. The girl's wide eyes roved around the room, when they came to him she broke into a wide smile and waved eagerly. Hicks grinned back.

A gasp behind him shifted the his and the girl's focus.

"RIPLEY!" She squealed.

Ripley was doubled over, grasping the railings as she gasped for breath. Fresh tears streamed down her face and her eyes never broke contact with Newt's.

"Let us help you, Ripley." Bishop broke in, "Let us rescue you."

Hicks watched her face contort in agony. Whether it was from the thing moving inside of her or the choice of whether or not to abandon Newt, he did not know. Her shoulders began to shake as she sobbed. The Corporal seized the opportunity and went out to her. She kneeled on the walkway, crying.

"Ripley, I'm not going to let it come to that." He spoke quietly so that only she could hear. "I need you to help me save you. Please."

The last word caught her attention. Her watery brown eyes peered at him, pleading.

"They're not going to kill it." She whispered almost begging.

"If they don't, I will. I promise." He meant it. He would gladly hunt it down if it meant that Ripley would survive.

She stared at him for a few seconds. He stopped breathing. Every muscle in his body was taut, ready to pick her up and drag her back to the medical team if she refused. It would be impossible for her to stop him in her current condition. He waited.

She nodded her head, very slightly, but it counted as a nod nonetheless. He exhaled, smiling slightly, and extended a hand to help her up. Grabbing it, she pulled herself up shakily.

"Hicks," she began.

"Yeah?"

"I don't think I can walk the distance."

Without a word, he scooped her up in his arms and carried her away from the mold. As he reached the fence, she gasped as if the wind had been knocked out of her.

"Hicks!"

"I know!" He sprinted her over to a gurney The Company men had on hand. Within an instant of setting her down she was swarmed by biohazard-clad men. One hooked her up with an IV, while another strapped an oxygen mask to her face. In that time Hicks made his way over and plucked Newt from the man who was holding her.

"Hey Newt, you've been asleep for awhile." Holding her, he walked over to Ripley, who clasped his hand and smiled at the girl as they began to wheel her to the ship.

The girl nodded, eyes wide.

"What are they doing with Ripley?" She asked.

"They're going to give her an operation to make her feel better." He answered, unsure of how much to reveal. Luckily she seemed satisfied with his answer because she asked no more questions as they followed the train of men out of the facility.

Once they boarded the ship, Ripley was rushed to the surgery room while Aaron, Hicks and Newt were ushered into the cafeteria area and Morse was escorted to the brig. It was a simple enough cafeteria; chairs and tables, tea and coffee. Essentially it was a more than welcome change from the entire prison facility.

Hicks was busy entertaining Newt with some of the slightly less bawdy jokes he had picked up during his time in the Corps, when Aaron suddenly stood up and walked over to the one little window.

"We should just nuke the entire fucking site from orbit." He muttered in disgust.

Hicks looked up.

Aaron turned around, shrugging.

"It's the only way to be sure."

-END-


	11. Epilogue

- Epilogue -

It was the screams that woke her. At first she was startled to find that they were not her own, especially after the nightmare she had been having. She pulled open the gown she was wearing, just to be sure.

A raised red line extended down her sternum. She poked it experimentally and watched as the spot her finger touched became white then slowly shade itself back in to red. It wasn't a dream. It was real.

She tore off the blankets and skidded across the shiny linoleum floor to a row of lockers. There had to be clothes in there somewhere. She threw on some sort of orderly shirt and drawstring sweatpants, pausing only an instant to eyeball the size of the sneakers before she slipped them on too and ran out of the door.

The hallway was dark and empty. The blue-white glow of the emergency strips along the walls allowed her to only barely make out shapes ten feet in front of her. She ran a hand along the wall, just to be safe, and continued to jog down the hall. Her fingers traced along, searching for any distinguishing features. There were none.

_High-tech, fancy Company bullshit_. She thought.

Just then her fingers felt nothing. The wall disappeared right out from underneath them. She doubled back, sticking her hand in the space before the rest of her body followed. A harsh white overhead light clicked on as she entered the room, leaving her blinking and squinting as her eyes adjusted. She blinked around the room.

The walls would have held an entire cache of pulse action rifles, most of which were missing. On the table in front of her lay a gnarled, battle-worn flamethrower. She gave its trigger a small squeeze and a jet of flame shot out. Satisfied, she swung the two remaining rifles over her shoulders, their extra ammo in bandoliers across her chest. She rummaged through a metal cupboard and found a a string of thermal grenades, which she promptly strapped around her thigh. Finally, she hoisted the flamethrower onto her hip, checked that it was full and continued down the hall.

It didn't take her long to reach her first armed human.

"Lieutenant Ripley!" he said, clearly startled by the woman nonchalantly walking up to him with a flamethrower. "What are you doing up?"

She ignored him.

"Is it lose?"

"Well yes. But -"

She cut him off.

"Where are the Corporal and the girl?"

"In the cafeteria." He jerked his head to the right.

She spun and began to march of in the direction he had indicated.

"But wait-"

She stopped, and spoke with her back towards him.

"If you want to survive this, you'd better find go find yourself one hell of a hole to hide in, preferably on an escape pod." She paused before adding, "And watch out for the goddamned airducts."

The sound of the man scampering away dully echoed as she continued down the hallway.

It didn't take her long to find the cafeteria. Letters spelled out in emergency lighting alerted her to its presence just ahead and to her right, however something else diverted her attention. The word "HELM" shone in the dull emergency lighting next to a door. Suddenly beset by an incredible idea, Ripley hurried through the automatic doors and scampered up the metal ladder that immediately greeted her. Upon reaching the top, she moved straight to the nearest console and began flipping switches and entering commands until she was satisfied. She gave a dark chuckle before moving on to the cafeteria.

The door opened with a barely audible hiss and once again a flood of too-white light burned her eyes. When she regained her vision, she saw them, asleep in the corner of the room. He was propped upright, the lines on his haggard face still visible even in sleep. She was curled up with her thumb in her mouth and head in his lap.

Ripley walked over to them, quietly setting the flamethrower on a nearby table.

"Hicks" she whispered, shaking him lightly so as not to wake Newt. The Corporal's eyes popped open, unfocused and confused.

"Ripley?" He said, still waking up. "What're you doing up already? They said it'd take days... " His voice trailed off as his eyes took in her battle attire.

"Oh shit," he said, straightening. "It's out?" He phrased the question as more of a statement. Ripley nodded, watching as his face became simultaneously more alert and older by fifteen years.

"We've gotta get out of here," she whispered, picking up a still sleeping Newt with one arm and handing Hicks a rifle with the other. He examined it briefly before slinging it over his shoulder and picking up the flamethrower.

"Alright, but what about everyone else?" he asked.

"They'll figure it out sooner or later." She shifted Newt on to her hip and continued, "Besides, I've set the ship to vent into space in twenty minutes. It should give some sort of alarm beforehand. If that doesn't work I also have the ship set to self destruct shortly thereafter and if all else fails I've got this thing heading into a nice solid moon... and I fudged up the controls so bad that it's irreversible." She felt her face flush as Hicks stared at her as if she was some sort of demi-god.

"Honestly, they really shouldn't have commands for some of these things. Makes no sense outside of the alien-killing business."

She grinned as Hicks burst into laughter. It was nice to hear him laugh. After everything they had been through it was probably much needed as well. She found it hard to believe that not so long ago she had been ready to jump into an inferno just for the chance to kill one of those aliens. Looking back on it, it seemed comical. Now she felt herself not caring about them. Sure, she had no desire to get herself or the others killed, but as far as the fate of the creature... well, she had done what she could with the ship. If it survived that, then she wouldn't have been able to do anything anyway.

_No use dragging the weight of the world along with me_. She thought as Hicks finally got a hold of himself.

"Alright then. Let's do this." He said, still grinning. Ripley turned and led the way out of the cafeteria.

* * *

It took them longer than expected to get to an EEV since the majority of the others had already been launched. By the time they found one the ship's voice (once again a cheery female voice) was announcing that there were only ten minutes left until interior ventilation.

"Bastards were going to leave us here!" Hicks growled, pushing the button to get into the EEV. Ripley just shrugged. She was tired of The Company, the aliens and whatever little diabolical schemes one would create to possess the other. She was tired, and she just didn't care. Instead of responding, she gently placed Newt in yet another cryo chamber and sealed her in.

"Hicks, once you get in your cryo tube I'm going to vent this too." She waved her hands, indicating the escape vehicle. "I just want to be sure."

"I can do it."

She turned to face him. The Corporal was nervously eyeing the cryo chambers. He seemed to have no intention of getting in another one after his previous experience. Ripley felt a pang of sadness sweep through her at seeing this man-of-steel Colonial Marine terrified of getting into a cryo tube.

"We can both do it. There are two suits." He seemed to perk up when she said that, so she handed him one of the spacesuits with a smile and then shimmied into hers.

"Ready for this?" He asked, as they strapped themselves into their seats. Ripley swallowed, this was a bit too much deja vu for her, so she slipped her marshmallow-mittened hand into Hicks' and nodded. He smiled and pressed the appropriate button.

Immediately they were both jerked forward in their seats as the sudden lack of pressure fought to rip them from their harnesses. Ripley squeezed the Corporal's hand, and he returned her pressure. They sat like that until they were no longer being pulled from their seats, merely floating in the absence of anything.

No giant, dark alien shapes flew past them either.

Hicks pressed the button again, closing the back of the craft. They remained seated, hands clasped until the green light came on to signal that there was enough oxygen in the cabin for them to breathe. They de-suited and Ripley moved to get the cryo chambers ready. Hicks didn't move.

"Hicks, it's gonna be a long trip back." Ripley said softly.

"I know. It's just... "

She could see the internal battle raging behind his eyes. It must have been won quickly though, because he abruptly stood up and began to disrobe until he was only wearing his boxers and dog tags. He slid into the nearest tube.

"Let's get this over with." He managed to get out through his grit teeth. Ripley considered him for a moment before shutting the empty cryo chamber and sliding in next to him.

"Wha-?"

His initial surprise was smothered as Ripley pressed her lips to his in a sweet, simple kiss.

"Well Hicks," she said, pulling back, "I think we need a vacation."

The Corporal grinned and wrapped his arms around her as she lay her head on his uninjured shoulder.

"I'd say we earned it."

Ripley smiled and gave his torso a small squeeze as the lid to the cryo chamber sealed itself. He returned the squeeze and drowsily added:

"See you on the other side."

Ripley drifted off into hibernation safe and comfortable, listening to the steady heartbeat of Corporal Hicks.


End file.
